


Hot Potato

by yodasyoyo



Series: Tumblr fics [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Programmer!Stiles, teacher!Derek, the sappiest thing that has ever sapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodasyoyo/pseuds/yodasyoyo
Summary: “This is not how we get engaged! This is not going to be the story that we have to tell everyone for the rest of our lives.” The rest of their lives. Oh yeah, Stiles is winning.“I say it is,” Stiles says, taking another step forward, then another. “This is definitely how we get engaged. It’s an epic love story. Werewolves! A Kanima! A potato! Think what we’ll tell our grandchildren.”IDEK GUYS, so don't ask.





	Hot Potato

**Author's Note:**

> Written because Sean in my awesome Sterek Writing Group left the prompt: 'Potato'. I mean. There were so many prompt ideas that I could have picked. Evocative and heartfelt. But the heart wants what it wants.

They’ve been together about three years now, actually living together for one, and Stiles thinks they’re  okay. He has a job as a freelance programmer, which involves a little bit of travelling, and a lot of working from home in his underpants. (He only bothers to wear a shirt for skype calls). Derek is a history teacher at Beacon Hills High School, which should not be as hot as it is. Fortunately it turns out that Stiles finds 28yr old teacher!Derek with sweatervests, and blazers with elbow patches, even more attractive than the leather clad alpha werewolf badass that first caught his eye in the preserve all those years ago.

The thing is, Derek doesn’t need to be a badass anymore, at least, not in the way he used to. The Nemeton has been dealt with, and the pack is flourishing, Beacon Hills is no longer a hell hole and so now he’s a badass in other, more subtle ways. He’s a badass gardener, who has lovingly nurtured a little plot of fruits and vegetables in their backyard. Then there are his badass knitting skills, (he made Stiles a kickass pair of mittens last winter) and don’t get Stiles started on the cooking, okay? No. Really. Don’t get him started. The cooking isn’t actually that great, Stiles does all the cooking, but Derek can mix a mean cocktail, which means their powers combined result in some truly awesome, if slightly blurry, mealtime memories.  
  
Anyway, it isn’t often that Stiles is forced to work late on Friday, let alone over the weekend, but today the shit has hit the fan, and it doesn't look like he'll have any other choice. When Derek gets home on Friday evening, wearing the blue sweater vest that brings out his eyes and the charcoal blazer with the elbow patches, Stiles can only stare up at him from his desk tragically and mourn the loss of what could have been.

“Gonna be a long one, huh?” Derek says.

“So long. I think I’m gonna be here all night, and probably most of the weekend,” Stiles sighs, and wistfully imagines peeling Derek out of that jacket.

“You want a drink? A coffee or something?”

What he wants, is to find the guy who originally wrote this code and stab him in the eye with a fork, unfortunately that isn’t going to happen. “I want gatorade,” he moans “and chocolate, and a bag of chips so big I can fit my entire head inside it and wear it like a hat.”

Other people may mistake the look Derek’s giving him right now as judgemental, but Stiles has known him too long. Derek may have a tough outer shell, but crack that sucker open and he’s got a gooey marshmallow centre. The way his lips are tugging up at the corner? He’s totally going to the grocery store for Stiles.

“Pretzels?”

“Oooh!” Stiles sits up straighter in his chair. “Yes, the pizza–”

“The pizza flavor ones, I know.” Derek is smiling now, small, but fond.

God. Stiles has the best boyfriend. Just the best.

-

A half hour later he’s well and truly stuck, and fed up of staring morosely at his screen, so he wanders downstairs to put the kettle on, just in time to find Derek arriving back from the store clutching a bag of groceries.

“You!” Stiles cries, making grabby hands. “You are a lifesaver! Seriously!” Derek passes him the bag and Stiles starts to go through it. Honestly. What did he do to deserve Derek? Gatorade, three different bars of chocolate, two enormous bags of chips the pizza pretzels he loves so much. It’s all–  Stiles pauses.

“Um, Der?” He peers into the bag confused.

“What?” Derek’s shucking his jacket, but he turns to Stiles, concerned. “Did I forget something?”

“Ummm. Not exactly. What’s this?” Stiles reaches into the bag and produces one small, shrivelled brown potato. It’s skin is all wrinkled and it feels a bit soft. Derek’s ears pink suspiciously.

“It–uh–it must have fallen into the bag with the other stuff.”

Oh god. He’s such a bad liar. It isn’t even funny. It shouldn’t be funny. The way his eyes dart nervously from side to side. The blush that’s spreading over from his ears to high on his cheeks. It’s adorable but–

“You’re saying this potato fell into the bag.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“It fell into the bag.”

“Yes.”

“Into the bag.”

Derek crosses his arms defensively. “I don’t get what the big deal is? It’s just a potato!”

“Ummm. I’m pretty sure the big deal is that you are clearly lying to me. I just don’t know why.”

“I’m not ly–”

“Derek.”

“I’m not!”

Now Stiles crosses his arms, potato still clutched in the curl of his fist. “Derek James Hale,” he growls out, glaring. Stiles is good at glaring, he picked up a lot of tricks from his dad over the years. Less than thirty seconds subjected to the infamous Stilinski Stare (patent pending) and Derek folds like a cheap suit.

“It was–” Derek sighs deeply, he isn’t looking Stiles in the eye anymore, instead he addresses the carpet by Stiles’ socked foot. “It was the only one left.”

“I-” Stiles freezes, brain stuttering to a stop. “What now?”

“It was the only one left,” Derek grinds out, ears glowing like beacons. “Okay? Don’t– don’t make a big-”

“You bought it because it was the only one left.” At a fundamental level Stiles still doesn’t get it.

“Yes. It–” Derek sighs, shoulders sagging a little, like he just knows Stiles isn’t going to let this go until he’s ferreted out the ugly truth. “It looked lonely,” he mumbles.

“Lonely.”

“Yes. Okay? Just drop it.”

“Lonely.” Stiles mutters, staring down dumbly at the shrivelled old potato, unsure whether he should laugh or cry. “You bought a shrivelled old potato because it looked lonely.”

“Yes, okay?” Derek snaps, snatching it out of Stiles’ unresisting hand. “So, go on, get it over with–”

“What?”

“Bring it.”

“Bring what?”

“The jokes. The sarcasm. The unrelenting mockery. Lets just get it over with.” He throws his hands up in the air and stands there, waiting.

Stiles stares at him.Then down at the bag full of snacks. Right down to the Grape Gatorade and the Hershey’s Cookies’N’Cream, both his favorites. His gaze flicks across to the potato.

“We should get married,” he blurts out.

“What?!” Derek stares at him, mouth hanging open.

“We should get married,” he repeats, this time with more conviction.

“Married?”

“Yup.” He nods vigorously.

Shaking his head, Derek huffs out, “You’re crazy.”

“Yes. Crazy in love. With a guy that buys lonely root vegetables. It’s a very specific kind of crazy. We’re extremely well matched.” He takes a step forward, arms lifting. He’s going in for a hug dammit. “Whaddya say?”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god, you asshole.”

“Asshole?”

“This is not how we get engaged! This is not going to be the story that we have to tell everyone for the rest of our lives.” _The rest of their lives._ Oh yeah, Stiles is winning.

“I say it is,” Stiles says, taking another step forward, then another. “This is definitely how we get engaged. It’s an epic love story. Werewolves! A Kanima! A potato! Think what we’ll tell our grandchildren.”

Yeah, he’s totally got this, Derek glances up at him, expression unreadable. “Our grandchildren?”

“Yes. Grandchildren. So many grandchildren. Who we are going to embarrass, by being sickeningly in love. Come on. Marry me.” He stops just in front of Derek, just shy of touching. “Please?”

Derek bites his lip against a smile. “Can we at least tell people you proposed in a life and death situation. Like I rescued you from a werebear or something.”

Stiles cocks his head, pretending to consider. “I don’t know, I really want to have a potato themed wedding. We’ll hand-carve all the crockery out of potatoes. Potato wine! Potato cake! Imagine the possibilities.”

And Derek’s full on laughing now, eyes soft and warm. “Okay, okay,” he laughs. “I’ll marry you. On one condition: no potatoes at the wedding.”

“Done!” Stiles says magnanimously, and leans in for a kiss.

-

Derek plants the shrivelled little potato in his vegetable garden, and against all odds, it flourishes under his tender care.

Stiles totally organizes a potato themed engagement party. It’s awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> haha! If you think this work deserves kudos and comments then I don't know what to say to you, but I welcome them all the same. I wrote it in half an hour. It is unbetated. But i had a lot of fun. I hope you did too.
> 
> Originally posted on my [tumblr](http://yodas-yo-yo.tumblr.com/). Come follow me and plan the guys a potato themed engagement party.


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